Wednesday, February 18, 2004

On elves

My two daughters have an elf fetish. The Eldest Aardvark Child has thought that Legolas was the hottest thing to ever grace the screen since the first time she laid eyes on him. The Youngest Aardvark Child, maintaining her long history of "me-too-ism" has also developed an unhealthy (well, no, not really, but it's SO much more dramatic to say so, don't you think?) attachment to this fictional elf.

Now, it's important to note that it is Legolas that is the object of their adoration, not Orlando Bloom. Hence, there was only mild interest in Orlando Bloom as Will Turner in the Pirates of the Caribbean. "He's ok." Shrug. Whatever. But mention Legolas? "Oooohhhh!!!"

The EAC has garnished quite a collection of Legolas posters and Legolas action figures (along with a Black Rider figure, 'cause he needs somebody to fight, right?) and Legolas key chains, and...well you get the picture. For Christmas, she got the lifesized cardboard cutout of Legolas, which now holds a position of prominence in her room.

Wanting too much to be like her sister, but not wanting to be too much like her sister, the YAC bought the cutout of Arwen for her room. (Arwen's lime green outfit matches the sheets on the YAC's bed perfectly. Hey, what do think the odds are that Mrs. A will let me get a lifesized Liv Tyler cutout for OUR bedroom? Yeah, that's what I thought too. ) The EAC and YAC have detailed discussions of all the LotR scenes featuring elves and they have taken elvish names for themselves and given elvish names to their friends.

It's just a phase. It's just a phase. It's just a phase.

On the way to church Sunday morning, the (suprise!) topic of Legolas came up. I asked them, "Do you know what it's called when you have a compulsive attachment to a certain male elf?"

"No, dad. What?"

"Legolust."

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Thank you. Thank you. I'll be here all week. Don't forget it's a three drink minimum.

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